Felix stood on his hind paws, his snout sniffing the air, his forepaws resting next to my bowl of tamarind water. I was overcome with love for this being. It’s taken over a year for this fellow to worm his way into my heart. I agreed to bring him home because my youngest begged me for him. She promised to take care of him and she has kept her end of the promise. For almost a year and a half he has mostly been confined to his playpen. Initially I did it because I was tired of cleaning up after him as he and we learned his body’s rhythm. Then, it was because mornings were hectic with four people leaving the home in under an hour.
What became a habit of convenience also became a shackle we could not get rid of. Each time we let him out of the pen, he went berserk from the freedom. Each time, we penned him back in because he was beyond control. The vicious cycle went on until this summer, with the kids home. Each day we have been letting him out, leash on but no one holding him. Slowly an hour at first, then two, then three. Now, it’s better but he is yet to be truly free.
Sometimes the zoomies scare us as they do him. If before I scrambled to contain him, now, I walk away hoping he understands that there is no one coming to capture him. Eventually he settles on the sofa.
Pets, children, all are the same. As new parents, we bind them with rules, with fear, with hope because we don’t know any better. Then we do it all over again because it works. Then, we wonder why they snarl, growl and leap at us at the slightest opportunity to flee the confines of a pen.
Watching Felix stand next to me as I cook, I wonder if the day is not far off when I work and he lies at my feet. Content. Sleepy. Cozy.
A girl can dream.
PS: I am fully aware of the perils of constraining a pet within a pen. I am actively working towards making it a thing of the past.
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